


West Virginia, July

by BeenAgainWords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Castiel Has Self-Worth Issues (Supernatural), Dean Winchester's First Time With a Man, Fuck Or Die, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mutual Non-Con, Newly Human Castiel (Supernatural), Pining Castiel (Subtle), Rushed Sex, Season 8?, Straight Dean Winchester?, Unrequited, Virgin Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27828391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeenAgainWords/pseuds/BeenAgainWords
Summary: Castiel was wide-eyed again."You're not going to like this"
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 114





	West Virginia, July

Cas struggled his way over to the bed, laying on his back as Dean frantically stumbled around salting the windows and doors. He could feel the energy draining out of him slowly, like he was losing his grace all over again. His eyelids became heavier.

“Cas?” Dean quickly finished the sigil and rushed over to the bedside. He hastily wiped his bloody hands on his jeans and grabbed Cas’s face, pulling down his bottom eyelids for any black discoloration. He let out a breath when he didn’t find any. 

A little more light came into the former angel’s eyes at Dean’s touch. Dean pretended not to notice, ignored the reason it was happening, but still let his hands rest on either side of Cas’ face for a bit longer than he would’ve. When he did pull his hands away he noticed the instant droop of Cas’s eyelids and the more labored breathing. 

Dean’s mouth twitched in worry. “Hang on Cas, I’ll go find you a hooker.” He moved to grab his gun from where he flung it on the floor when they came in.

“A  _ what _ ?” came from Cas’ mouth, with a bit more force in his voice than he thought he was capable of, but he was hit by a wave of exhaustion almost a moment later. He gave up on the question and erred a warning instead. “Dean, I don’t think I can last very long alone.”

“I know, pal, but---” He stopped himself. Another thing. Cas wouldn’t be able to replace the salt on the door after he left. He’d be a sitting duck. He’d have to stay here. Maybe he could order a girl? Or get Sammy to bring one? He looked at his phone. No signal. No dice. And Cas was draining fast. 

“Alright,” Dean said gruffly and let his shoulders sink, reaching for Cas again. He grasped his hand, and watched him peek back into life again. He knew he was sharing his energy, letting Cas feed off of him, but he didn’t feel any weaker or anything. 

“How you feeling?” It wasn’t a question Dean asked very often, and for good reason, but considering Cas’s life depended on Dean at the moment in a biological way he figured it’d be fine. 

“Better.” Cas grunted. He wanted to ask Dean how long he was going to stand there holding his hand before he laid down but thought better of it. Just because it was what he wanted didn’t mean it was necessary. He bit his tongue as he always did and focused on the hand grasping his, how Dean’s fingers grabbed his wrist. 

Dean nodded and looked off to the side, swallowing before saying a kurt “Good.” The last thing he wanted to hear right now was another one of Castiel’s dying speeches, so he kept silent and hoped his friend would do the same for a while. 

He stood there, sharing his energy, and thought about what needs to happen next. Can’t leave, can’t call anyone. That thing was still out there and seriously pissed off. Maybe if he got Cas juiced up enough they could make a break for the Impala, high tail it out of here, drop his featherless friend off at a brothel and regroup for tomorrow. 

He figured it was their best bet. He gave Cas’ hand a shake. “Think you can walk?”  _ Damn, he looked rough.  _

Cas didn’t answer, but instead slowly swung a leg off of the bed to demonstrate. He shifted his weight so that he slowly slid off the bed, but too late he found he couldn’t catch himself and went wide eyed as gravity worked against him. Luckily Dean was there to catch him, or rather, there to shove him back on the bed. 

“Dean, what do we do?” 

“Fuck,” Dean whispered to himself. They were trapped, and Cas was fading fast. They were out of options. 

Cas was wide-eyed again. 

“You’re not gonna like this.” Dean concluded, then climbed over him onto the bed, accidentally knocking their boots together. Straddling him, he lifted his friend to a sitting position against the bed’s headboard. As weak of a link Cas was sometimes, he was grateful he still hadn’t put on much excess muscle. Maneuvering him was a lot easier than it would’ve been with Sammy. With his hands on Cas’ sides though, he noticed him perking up a bit. His eyes were a little more focused and he managed a firm swallow. Poor bastard still didn’t know what was coming. 

Still, Cas decided it was best not to use his energy to fight Dean, instead helping him remove his arms from the sleeves of his trenchcoat. He didn’t know what Dean’s plan was, but he trusted that it was done in his best interest, especially since Sam wasn’t around for him to be sacrificed for. When the trenchcoat was off, though, and Dean began working at his tie and shirt Cas became a bit more apprehensive. 

“Dean?”

Dean made it a point not to look at Cas in the eyes. Just from his voice he could tell that he was confused, but he sounded weaker, so he kept undressing him. With the shirt untucked and unbuttoned he loosened the belt and turned around to pull off the black boots. Cas’ naivety surely should have worn off by now, and he should’ve been fighting him. He chanced a look at Cas, and his stomach turned at the fear written across his face. He knew he should start talking, start explaining, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. ‘ _ Sorry man, but you need to have sex right now’ _ ? Yeah, right. He pulled off Cas’ pants from the cuffs before shoving his boots back on his feet and getting up to shed his own clothes. The dull look in his eyes lit a fire under Dean’s ass and he stripped as fast as he could. The more skin the better. 

“Cas, c’mon,” he sat down next to him on the bed, swung him into his lap, and pulled his hands to Dean’s chest. “c’mon.”

After a beat, Cas sparked up again, the warmth from Dean spilling into him. He felt his nerves buzzing everywhere their skin met. Little vibrations that seeped into his bones and kept him lucid. If he wasn’t so viscerally aware of how much of a burden he was on a very disdainful Dean, he might have let himself enjoy it while it lasted.

“Dean?” Cas managed. He blinked and focused his eyes. 

Dean let out a breath. He worries way too much about this guy. “Look, Cas. I don’t know how to tell you this, but basically if you don’t get laid ASAP you’re going to die. That sex demon or whatever the hell Sam called it is sapping all your energy, and if you don’t start get some of your own it’s gonna be able to break throught that door like it was made of toothpicks. I don’t like this anymore than you do but…” He trailed off, he didn’t know how to end that sentence. 

Cas pulled back momentarily, but feeling the energy loss he leaned back in and just shook his head. “I, I don’t… I’ve never---”

Dean took a moment to close his eyes and brace himself. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Just... keep your hands on me and stay awake. I’ll do the rest. And don’t set your expectations too high. You’re not exactly my type.” 

Cas tried not to let that comment bite. 

Dean went straight for the crotch. Gritting his teeth and giving a small shake to his head in disbelief. He needed Cas to see this wasn’t for his enjoyment, although he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious to see how packed his friend was. Seeing Cas in his boxers was weird enough, but cupping another man’s dick through the cloth was a whole experience Dean didn’t ever plan on. God, he was looking forward to ganking that monster bitch. He felt Cas squeeze at his shoulder, which was a good sign, atleast. Dean was a little surprised to find Cas already on his way to a respectable semi, and a little more surprised to find he was too.  _ Must be another part of the curse-thing _ , he decided. He slipped his hand under Cas’ elastic waistband and forged on.

Cas, the poor fucker, had probably never even jacked off before, Dean realized, wrapping his hand around him. Holding him like that he was a little surprised to find his hand didn’t wrap around quite as far as he was used to. He flashed a ‘ _ not bad _ ’ look at Cas as he started pumping and was met with an open-mouthed look of petrification. He felt pretty bad about taking it as fast as he was, but they didn’t exactly have time to take it slow.

Just then there was a guttural cry from outside. The demon-witch thing had found them. They only had a few minutes. Ten, at most. Dean hadn’t realized he stopped moving, and Cas was breathing painfully next to him.    


“Sorry.” he muttered, a little more serious now, and kept going. It dawned on Dean that a handjob might not do it. Sam had just breifly said “sex” but didn’t go into specifics. It’s not like they expected this to happen. It dawned on Dean that if this was pre-sexual revolution lore it probably meant penetration. And maybe, he worried, maybe it wouldn’t even count with two dudes. 

Still, it was their best shot, and they didn’t exactly have time to test the waters. Riskier yet, Cas didn’t possibly have the energy to do the dirty. He’d just have to take it. 

“Cas, you’re not gonna like this, but I’m going to need you to roll over on your stomach.” Cas’ stomach dropped, but he responded by squeezing his eyes shut and doing what he was told. He couldn’t believe this. The urinating and sweating and maintenance of a human body was humiliating enough, but this was downright mortifying. Everyone talked about sex like it was the best thing on earth, but frankly this was one of his lowest moments.  _ At least it’s Dean _ he reminded himself. Furthermore, he wasn’t used to these sensations. What Dean had been doing to his junk was almost pleasant, but having his erection pressed underneath him into the bed was teetering dangerously into painful territory. 

“Just trust me, okay?” Dean honestly didn’t know what to do. He’d watched gay porn maybe twice in his life, and both times he wasn’t really paying attention to the mechanics of it. He paid attention to his member, trying to get it hard and situated Cas’ legs a little wider apart, concerned at how limp he was. Eventually he just tried to go for it. 

It didn’t fit. Dean knew he was a little above average, but he didn’t really think that was the problem. 

“Relax.” Dean growled out, immediately regretting his tone. Cas didn’t ask for this. Still, he did relax under him, and Dean tried again, managing to push in a tortuous inch. 

“Dea...Dean!” Cas cried out, pain and panic in his voice. Dean pulled out. This wasn’t going to work. They’d need something slick. Dean told him to hang on and went to search around the cabin. First thing he found was the WD-40 he knocked off the windowsill to salt, but he decided no way in hell was that going to happen and stumbled into the bathroom, where he found some aloe vera gel in the medicine cabinet. Deciding it was good enough he hurried back to where Cas lay, looking lifeless. He shouldn’t’ve left him alone for that long. 

“C’mon, Cas!” he yelled and his eyes flew open, he laid down for a moment on his back while he popped open the container, hoping to transfer as much energy as he could. Cas reached behind to touch him with one hand. Whatever was out there screamed again and Dean hurried up and slathered himself up, squeezing some on Cas for good measure. Cas visibly shifted, uncomfortable, but remembered to relax as Dean lined himself up again and pushed in. 

Cas flinched at the intrusion, and Dean winced at the tightness, but it worked. He was in. Dean wiggled around a bit, letting them both get used to it and rolled the two of them on their sides so Dean could press himself against Cas’ back and hold him still. Dean reached around to grab his dick, and pumped him fast again as he began thrusting. It was getting easier, and he tried to angle it to find his prostate, which would make things go a hell of a lot quicker. 

Cas slowly started to come back to life. At first he just stared into the darkness of the cabin, laying still as Dean worked on him. It was all too much to process right now. Had it been the other way around, and Dean was the one that needed sexed, Cas would’ve been alright with that. He’d do anything for him, even this. Hell, especially this. But being on the receiving end just left him feeling like dead weight, a burden, just like he always is, only worse. A tag-along is fine. An unwanted liability is awful. 

But just as he was feeling sorry for himself a snap of pleasure ricocheted through him. He folded into himself as a short moan escaped Cas’ chapped lips. 

Unintentionally, Dean grinned behind him and hit the same angle again. Cas popped out a breath out and his head rolled back into Dean. His hips started to jerk into Dean, and Dean got the novel idea to match his hand’s pace to his thrusts. He could see Cas’ lips hang open loosely, his teeth gritted behind them. For a second he had a strange urge to kiss him. The memory of Cas kissing Meg popped up in his mind, as it did more often than he wanted it to.  _ Shit,  _ he was close. 

Luckily, Cas was too, although he didn’t know it. He felt his groin getting tighter, like his organs were tying themselves into a knot and every possible itch he could have was getting scratched. He felt a sharp pulsing against Dean’s hand as the little snaps of pleasure continued to crash over him, and then it was all too much and he was tensing up and Dean sped up and then everything slowed to a stop. Cas was overcome by the worst wave of fatigue yet and he knew he couldn’t stop himself from falling asleep. Knowing it was over, in one way or another, he gave up and gave in. But just in that moment before sleep he felt something even more unexpected. Something wet and soft against his mouth, moving and sucking. Then it stopped. 

“Just one more minute, Cas. Hang on.” The pressure against his back left, leaving him empty and he thought he heard the door opening, a hiss, a crash, and a gunshot. The thought of fear ran through his mind. Was Dean okay? He tried to open his eyes but couldn’t. He fell into black. 

* * *

The next thing he heard was a bang. And then another one. When a third one came, it was accompanied by the sound of wood splintering, and a familiar grunt. An even more familiar sound came from next to him. 

“What the hell, Sam?” 

Sam wasn’t having it. “Me what the hell? No! You what the hell? I was out all  _ night _ trying to find you, Dean.” Cas groaned, loud enough for the other two to hear. It was too early for angry Sam. “C’mon! You could’ve at least given me a call.”

“No cell service. Look, whatever, man. Everyone’s fine and the…  _ thing _ is dead. I won’t do it again.” Evidently Dean thought it was too early for Angry Sam too. 

“Yeah, you say that everytime.” Castiel observed a moment of silence between the two. 

“What’s up with him?” Sam asked, clearly talking about the sleeping angel. Former angel. “Where’s his coat?”

Cas finally opened his eyes, now that he was a part of the conversation. Dean gave him a quick glance. 

“Rough night.” He answered for him. “Got cursed.” Cas grunted in thanks and rolled over onto his back, looking at Sam down his nose. He was grateful to find that Dean had apparently rebuttoned his shirt and wrestled his pants back on while he was asleep. 

“Oh.” Sam winced in sympathy. “OH!” he repeated again, when he remembered what they had been hunting. “Uh---”

“---Sam!” Dean warned with a yell. “Not a single word.”

_ Okay,  _ Cas thought to himself. 


End file.
